ferox femina | Andrea Spofford

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 Andrea Spofford writes poems and essays, some of which can be found or are forthcoming in Cimarron Review, The Account, inter|rupture, New South, The Portland Review, Sugar House Review, Revolver, Vela Magazine, Puerto del Sol, and more. A native Californian transplanted to the South, Andrea is the author of four chapbooks, one full-length collection, and poetry editor at Zone 3 Press. Find her online at http://andreaspofford.com and on Twitter @andspoff.


See: “Attraction;” See: “A Woman,” not “A Wanton Fish”                            Bengalese, fr. Old English, fr. Med. Latin, fr. Kutchhi Sindhi, fr. Japanese, fr. Finnis 

  1. Marsh light 2. near the river, the glow all green and shimmering outside of docks. Twitchy, wishing, this spirit of a fisher, a creel at her feet bountied and plumb, bursting with the slick ones
  2. wet and thrashing 4. To be tempted is to falter. She is not goddess, nor temptress, not Calliope in the stars; she is muddied and foul, a bird-watcher, a collector of shells, a set of hands wrist deep into grit, a puller of clams from the shore, pry fingers and grasping, shifting, her hair worn above her ears smeared with ink, the leftover 5. Gather and sacrifice this brackish creature, her breasts affright, tightened against her chest, her feet a rushing, all parts outside, she nothing but a ghost against the beached boards, driftwood knocking her ankles and legs 6. See: “Halocline” 7. See: “A collision of sweet to salt.”